Start of Time
by Xpages-written-in-the-starsX
Summary: Future sequel to In My Veins. Brielle Hale thought the nightmares about the Darach or Deucalion ended after Jennifer's death. It was thirteen years ago. Now, at 15 those dreams have returned full-force with the arrival of her new English teacher that looks extremely similar to Jennifer Blake. How can the children of the Wolf Pack handle their own demons? New romances and alliances?
1. Chapter 1

"This is such a bad idea," I breathe as his long fingers undo the top button on my plaid shirt, lips mouthing over the skin of my neck.

"I think it's a very, very good idea." Michael's deep voice sends a shiver up my spine as he draws my thighs around his slim hips. I lock my ankles, winding my arms around his broad shoulders.

"We're going to get caught, Coach is going to call our parents, and my dad is going to rip your throat out with his teeth before your mom can load an arrow at him." I warn.

"I want you, B." His voice groans, sending vibrations through the tender flesh of my throat. I moan, swept up in the sensation of him. My heart pounds. I cup his jaw between my palms to tug him back to my lips. His soft lips move roughly with mine, tongues meeting and brushing against eachother. I push mine through his lips l, tasting every crevice of his mouth. His name fits; he tastes like silver. Cold and sharp and vaguely like blood.

Michael Argent loosely resembles his mother. Black curls, pale fair skin, thick lashes. He has Jackson's steely leaden eyes. A foot taller than me.

"I love you, Brielle." He reminds me, nipping my bottom lip once.

The bell signaling the end of lunch blares loudly and I flinch, head falling back with an irritated groan.

"Not today, I guess." He whispers, running the pad of his thumb across my bottom lip.

"You have to leave first so they don't suspect anything." I reply, untangling myself from him and re-buttoning my top.

He pecks me on the lips.

"I'll see you right after practice?" His steel eyes meet mine.

"Yeah. I love you, Michael."

"I love you too."

I watch him disappear down the hallway before I make my way into English 12 seconds before the final bell and slide into a chair beside my cousin.

The woman facing away from us at the front of the room isn't my elderly teacher from the past. Her long brown hair brushes against the small of her back. When she faces us, my stomach tightens. I've seen her before. When I was little. Blue eyes, pale skin, rounded features.

"Your teacher went missing this weekend and I'm your replacement. My name is Ms. James."

"Brielle Hale," she freezes. Her whole body stiffens, but she recovers and then stops again at "Thomas Lahey."

"Here," he growls, curving fingers tightly around the underside of his desk. She's set him off. He knows something's off too. With a slow smile aimed in our direction, I recognize it instantly without a doubt.

I just wish I knew where from. An image flashes through my mind; that smile as she clung to my father's arm.

_It can't be real, _I tell myself, _we watched that bitch Jennifer die. _


	2. Chapter 2

And the day is clear. My voice is just a whisper—louder than the screams you hear. It's like the sun came out.

-GABRIELLE APLIN, START OF TIME.

* * *

Hales run. It's what we do. We run. We don't talk, don't fight. Or, when we do attempt to fight, we lose. Badly.

I guess that's why I do Soccer. Running is the biggest part to soccer. In the off season, coach has us 'conditioning' in Cross Country. Along with the Lacrosse team. Stupid Finstock's idea. Yes, the old fart's still working at BHHS.

I walk next to Thomas toward our lockers when class ends. He's a carbon copy of after-the-bite Uncle Isaac with Aunt Cora's brown eyes, and every girl notices.

"I don't like her," He growls, "There's something wrong with her."

"You can't tell Isaac or Cora. We have to figure this out by ourselves..." A throbbing enters my temples, causing my knees to tremble.

"Brie? What's wrong?!" My cousin grips my elbow to stop my motion. Dizziness sets in and my fingers press into the aching area on my head to stanch it.

"I...Headache..." I manage to gasp out weakly.

"Like from the accident?" He murmurs worriedly.

A year ago, when the Argents and Harts—a more lethal Hunter family—came to Beacon Hills, I'd been out in the woods with my mother. Training. One of the Harts started attacking us with Wolf's Bane bullets and arrows. Mom took a bullet to the hip, and I took one to the head. It took Doctor Deaton seven hours to bring me back.

"N-No...Just–just need to eat something." I reply, allowing him to wrap my arm around his shoulders to support my weight.

Instead of the vending machine, like I expect, Thomas pushes me into the passenger seat of his Toyota and drives until we reach a drive-through burger joint. My closest cousin forces me to scarf down a quarter-pounder before we rush to practice 20 minutes late. The ache hasn't faded.

"Lahey!"

"Hale!" Both coaches bark at us at the same time.

"Sorry, Coach." We mutter in unison.

"You have two minutes to stretch before we do three perimeter runs."

I whimper, sighing and bending down to stretch out my legs. My ass runs into someone else's hips. I bolt upright and spin on my heels to face the other, my face burning.

"I'm sorry," I blush, tucking a tendril of my own hair behind my ear.

"I don't mind a beautiful girl pressing herself up against me, but it's fine."

He flashes me a wide grin. He's new; fair-skinned with a short mess of raven hair, high cheekbones, and emerald green eyes.

"I'm Brielle. Brielle Hale."

"I know. I'm Kai Stilinski."

"Oh My God! Kai!" I fling myself into his arms. His snake around my waist to crush me to his chest, face burying into my hair. Electricity shoots through me when his arms wrap around me. I giggle as he spins me around before setting me down.

"When did you transfer from Private school?!" I ask as he sets me back on my feet.

"I shifted a couple weeks ago, on my dad. Him and mom decided I should be going to school with the Pack since uour dad agreed to help me learn to control everything." He grins at me again. Over his shoulder, the little bit I can see, I find Michael watching.

His eyes narrow at Kai's hand on my hips. I cough and step away from my childhood best friend, still staring at my boyfriend. Before I can say anything, we're sent off. Michael takes off at the front of the group, angry sprinting. I use my Beta abilities to pump my legs harder until I'm matching his long strides.

"He used to be my best friend when I was little. We took bubble baths together when were in preschool. That was nothing!" I protest as we run. My head is still pounding, in time with my pulse.

"Brielle," a female mix between a growl and human voice whispers. The pain increases, "Brielle, I'm coming for you."

I cry out at the sudden burst of pain and collapse onto my knees, the hard earth opening the skin at my palms, blood gushing out momentarily before they heal over.

"Brie, what's going on?!" Kai's soft voice says, from my left.

"We need to get you home. Derek's not going to like this." Kai slides one strong arm underneath my knees and the other under the small of my back as he lifts me. He has to be more like his mother, because Stiles hasn't been able to pick me up since I was nine.

"I..." There's a scream that pierces my eardrums, cutting me off. Kai carries me, running right behind my cousin. My stomach rolls when we see where everyone is standing. There's our old English teacher, a garrote sliced through her throat, blood flowing down her body.

I move closer to see exactly what I've been praying I wouldn't.

"Oh God, it's happening again." I gasp, "The three fold death...Thomas, it's a Darach. Like her."

"You have to tell Uncle Derek." He replies, "He needs to know this."

"No. He's treating me like I'm made of glass, Tomcat. He needs to see I can handle myself."

"You're insane, Brie, we can't fight this thing alone!"

"That's why Dr. Deaton's going to help us."

"You do realize your dad is going to skin your cute little werewolf ass for going to his emissary behind his back." Kai's voice rumbles his chest, sending a shiver up my spine.

"Ignoring that statement about your ass being cute," Thomas shoots the newest Beta a dark look, "He's right."

"Stiles is an FBI agent, his son can say things like that. He'll never get in trouble for anything."

"C'mon, let's just get you home. We'll discuss it later." Thomas growls, leading Kai with me still in his arms, back to the car. The oldest Stilinski boy slips into the backseat, his arms tight around my waist. I shudder against him.

Kai was always this way with me—strong and silent. I don't know where he developed it because Stiles never shuts up and Lydia whines instead of taking things with a grain of salt.

When we pull up to the house, there's a dark green Trailblazer in the driveway. That means he's here.

I squeal, literally jumping out of the moving car and sprinting across the large yard. My parents' house was built similarly to the one dad grew up in. Wide and tall with long white columns in front of the tan exterior. Black shutters are connected to every window.

"UNCLE AIDEN!" I scream when I see him lounging lazily against one of the columns—waiting. He catches me when I leap into his arms, burying my face in my favorite of my twin uncles' shoulder.

"Look at you. You've grown up so much since I've seen you! I leave for two years and you turn into a freaking model?!"

"Oh, shut up, Aid." I tease, bumping his hip with mine.

He ruffles my hair, waving over at the other two Pack members.

"Call me when you're feeling better. Okay, Brie?"

"Okay! Night boys!" I shout as the door closes.

(3rd Person)

She was in the house. From her hiding place, she could see them. Makaylah was leaning against the counter as she fixed dinner for their little hoard. She hasn't changed much. Derek stepped up behind her, brushed her hair to one side and started kissing her neck. His strong body pressed into the Alpha from behind as he left wet kisses on her throat.

"Derek, baby, what are you doing?" She mumbles as she put the lid on Stir-Fry and spun to face her husband. He slid his hands to her ass, lifting her. She gasped as he set her on the counter and stepped between her legs.

A flare of jealousy flashed through the onlooker's body at the motion, remembering how it felt when he did it to her.

Makaylah tilted her head up and met his lips with hers, legs tightly wound around his waist as his calloused palms up the back of her shirt—flat against her spine.

"Der, we can't. Brie, Aiden, Erica and Spencer are going to come in here soon. I don't want them to see their father/Brother-In-Law fucking me in the middle of the kitchen." Her voice was breathless as he sucked bruises into her neck.

"I love you," Derek whispered into her ear. She smiled widely as he leaned into her again.

She fisted her hand as she watched them together. He'd never said it to her, but that made sense. Makaylah owned his heart; he made that very clear.

"Oh, Dear God, please don't do that in the kitchen! We eat in here!" Their boy, the thirteen year old spoke.

"Yeah, dad, please." Brielle agreed, wrinkling her nose. Derek laughed, setting his petite wife back to her feet.

The Mistletoe would fix everything. Julia smirked, watching as Brielle lifted the poisoned food to her mouth and ate it. Makaylah would have to give up being an Alpha and she could kill her. Then Derek would be hers.


	3. Chapter 3

_"What kind of man lays his hands on the woman he loves?_

_Calls her angel, and shows no remorse._

_And the blood. _

_He covers her body in bruises and scars."_

-He is We, Too Beautiful.

* * *

I glance around the corner: into my parents' open bedroom, at their sleeping forms. Mom's curled into his chest, one arm draped around his abdomen, legs tangled in his. Dad's chin rests on top of her head, arm underneath hers and wrapped around her, the other stretched out under her head. She's using him as a pillow.

I'm jealous of how easily my parents found each-other. How easily they fit together. Thankfully, the door's open tonight. When it's closed, we know they're going at it. Closing the door doesn't do shit. Werewolf hearing: we can still hear them. If it weren't for the fact that they were my parents, their volume would be comical. They don't know how to be quiet.

"Derek, I'm worried about her." I hear my mother's muffled voice after I've reached the bottom floor. _Are they talking about me or Erica? _

Erica, my younger sister, is the runt of the Pack. She's older than Spencer, but she was born human. When she was nine she was diagnosed with Leukemia and Mom bit her to save her life. She's a good mix of my parents: tanned skin, long light brown hair that falls in one sheet, and innocent almond shaped brown eyes that get her out of everything she does wrong.

I hear Dad sigh and the sound of the bed creaking as he lifts her into his lap, like he's always done.

"Makaylah, Brielle is going to be fine. She's strong."

"Unless Kate or another fucking Hunter tries to blow our little girl's head off. You weren't there, Derek. You didn't see it."

"I know. Baby, I know. Brie is just like you. Remember everything you went through by the time you were fifteen? She can handle this. I love you, but you have to calm down. Please, just go to sleep. The Pack's coming tomorrow and we both need rest to deal with all of them."

"Are you telling me what to do, Derek Hale?" I can hear the smile in her voice and I can't help but smile too.

"Of course not. I just want you to be healthy, my Alpha." He replies.

My mother, from what Deaton's told me, is the most powerful female Alpha he's seen since Talia died. He won't tell me why, or what makes her so strong. The older Betas in the Pack refuse to tell us much of anything about the threats they've faced since we were born. Some bullshit about defending us.

Except the Darach.

The nightmares were terrible after the first time I saw her face; in that fire at the Glen Capri when we thought Dad was dead. Her mauled, pale, disgusting face. With my high mental capacity at such a young age, I knew something was wrong. No-one else but Lydia saw it in the fire. I slip through the front door unnoticed, silently. I slide my Steve Madden wedge sneakers on the second I reach the grass before I run. My heart pounds as I sneak through shadows, making sure not to enter anywhere light in the woods.

There are no animals. Anywhere.

I breathe a sigh of relief when I find his sleek black BMW 4 series. Michael. He climbs out of the car the second he sees me. When I reach him, his long fingers close around the back of my thighs to haul me to rest on his hips. My arms wind around his neck, both hands locked around either elbows. Our foreheads press together, his eyes fluttering shut as he holds onto me.

"I missed you."

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that. My uncle just got in to town and I couldn't wait to see him."

"It's fine, Angel. You're here now." He grins, flashing me pearl-white teeth, "C'mere."

He tilts his head until our lips meet, moving in a familiar dance together as one of his hands cups my cheek and the other rests on my ass. I've gotten used to Michael; where his hands move to hold me up whenever we kiss, the emotions that pour out when we touch. Everything.

"My mom said that she's calling in reinforcements after the murder this morning. My aunt and my grandfather are on their way into town." He tells me, working his way down my neck as if to remind himself of earlier in Coach's Office. But the words are like a cold bucket of ice dumped on me. I push on his chest as I unravel my legs from his hips.

"Which. Aunt?" The shift takes over, my claws sinking into the fleshy palm of my hand to keep myself from slashing him.

"Kate." My heart quickens and I let out a low growl.

"Call her and tell her not to come." I snarl. His blue-gray eyes widen at my statement, at the harsh tone of my voice.

"Why?"

"Kate shows up here and I'll kill her." His fingers close around both my wrists as he slams me against the rough bark, pinning me there with his body.

"Don't say shit like that, Brielle. I'm not afraid to hurt you to protect my family." He whispers, face drifting closer to mine. His voice is dark, a dangerous sound I've never heard him use before. The Hunter. That side of him we silently agreed not to bring into our relationship.

"And I'm trying to get justice for my family, Michael. She ruined my father's life. He is the way he is because of her."

"You want me to feel pity for your dad? He killed my grandmother!"

"Your mother fucking Scott McCall is what killed Victo-" I find myself staring up at him from the ground, my cheek bone stinging as I look up at him. Michael just slapped me. I gasp when his fist slams against my nose

"You don't know what I've been through! You don't know what I've done for you!" He shouts. He rolls onto my hips and repeats this, his fist meeting my nose and making a sick crack every time. He's so heavy, heavier than I can move. _Why don't I have any strength?!_

"Get off of me!" I scream, the copper taste of my own blood as it rushes into my mouth and down my throat. His fingers tangle into my hair and slam my skull against the hard ground. Another loud scream tears through my chest at the agonizing pain that explodes through my entire body.

"This is all your fault!" He bellows down at me as he lifts himself to his feet, wiping his knuckles off on the leg of his jeans, "Why did you have to make me so mad?!" His fingers comb through his dark hair as he glares down at me.

"I think you should go home." Is all I can say.

I watch his car disappear into the night before I back up until my back meets a tree and I slide down. Sobs wrack my body as I fight for oxygen. I can't breathe. Or see out of my left eye. They're not healing. At all.

Then it hits all of a sudden, without any warning. I collapse and the world fades into black.

(3rd Person)

He finds her first, crumpled on the ground with sick injuries. Covered in blood. Some wolves age quickly and some don't change at all. He hasn't. Almost reflexively, he lifts her up and crushes her to his chest. Her body fits perfectly into his arms, he notes.

Physically, in years, this was so very wrong. She was almost young enough to be his daughter. Except for the fact that during a fight to protect his pack, he'd been so seriously hurt that it nearly wiped all of his memories. He was in a coma for ten of these past 13 years; body and mind preserved at 20-Years-Old.

He vaguely remembered what she looked like as a toddler—cute. Like a puppy. Not this breathtaking creature that, even unconscious, caught his scent and rolled her head toward him.

"It's okay, I'm going to get you somewhere safe. I promise." He murmurs, quietly. Once he reaches the boathouse next to the Lake that Deaton gave him, he set her down on the couch, searching for gauze and his 'werewolf first aid' kit.

Her shirt rode up her flat stomach. She was toned: you could tell she was a Hale. He reached up with long, bony fingers, to wipe blood away from a nasty cut where his ring slashed her up. A whimper came from her when he dabbed at it with rubbing alcohol.

"Ssh, Brie. It'll stop hurting soon, I promise." He whispered. When her scratches and bruises were tended to, he shifted until he was sitting behind Brielle, strong arms caging her to his chest. To keep her from rolling onto the ground.

Her consciousness returned with a gasp, before she rolled forward and black spewed from her mouth, blood and bile and one other alarming substance. Mistletoe. Little white pieces in the black filth.

"Wha's happening to me?" She slurred.

"You're sick."

"Scott, call my mom." Her teal eyes met his seconds before she heaved onto the wooden floor again. She was shaking, now

Scott McCall stood up and, after taking a towel and wiping the black blood off of her chin, dialed.

Derek pulled away from Makaylah's lips to pick up his phone.

"It's Scott," he muttered before answering. The brunette turned her head to plant kisses along the strong curve of his neck while he answered.

"It's three in the morning, Scott, what the fuck is ha...What?"

"Derek, Brielle's with me and she's been puking up black blood and mistletoe." Scott was speaking fast while he paced around the room, "She's drifting in and out of consciousness. It's just like what happened to Cora."

"Where are you? I'm on my way." Derek lifted Makaylah out of his lap as his fingers closed around his jeans. His wife was dressing quickly, a grim expression on her perfect face. She threw on navy short-shorts and a white tee shirt, her heart pounding and drowning out every other sound to Derek. He took both her wrists, pulling her close and dragging his thumb up her jaw.

"She's going to be okay. We can save her."

"I'm scared to be a Beta again," She whispered, letting him lean in and kiss her forehead.

"I'll do it." Aiden said from the doorway, leaning against the frame.

"No, Aid, she's my daughter—I'll do it. But thank you, little one." She pressed a kiss across her younger brother's forehead as she passed.

"I'll call Cora and Isaac, they'll bring the others over here." He said, quietly, "Be careful, big sis." He grinned, watching her stride down the hallway and out the door. When she reached the edge of the woods, she stripped down until she was bare and shifted with a loud growl. A chocolate brown wolf looked up at Derek with crimson eyes, bumping his leg with her wet nose before she took off in a full-force sprint.

He couldn't keep up with her; seconds behind with her clothes tucked under his arm.

When she entered the lake house Scott, in awe of her, got a spare blanket and covered her body chastely as she shifted back to human. Derek hid her from view as she dressed herself before kneeling down by Brie's head, combing her fingers through her daughter's ebony hair.

"Mom?" She mumbled at the scent.

"I'm right here, sweetheart." The Alpha replied, Derek next to her. He kissed her forehead, wiping sweat from her brow, "We're going to make it all better."

"No," A redheaded teen said, "Nothing is going to save her here."

"Claudia," Derek rumbled, "What are you feeling?"

"Like I'm going to drop dead any second. We have to get her to the Nemeton if you're going to transfer your power to her. It's the only way she's going to recover." Claudia replied, eyes fixed on Brielle.

"You really are a banshee—just like your mother." Scott murmured, blinking rapidly at Stiles and Lydia's daughter.

"Yeah, Uncle Scott, I am." She smiled widely, "I am."

"I'll carry her." He said, drawing the eldest of the Hale children into his arms and walked in step with Derek as they made their way silently to the Nemeton. His mate's fingers laced through his; it's the first time he's been back since Paige died.

And his daughter might die in the same place. His stomach was swooping with nerves.


End file.
